


Good Form

by thatssupersketch



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-14
Updated: 2015-01-24
Packaged: 2018-03-07 14:17:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3175818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatssupersketch/pseuds/thatssupersketch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma isn't too thrilled when she finds out Mary Margaret is implementing that the wedding party has to do a choreographed dance together, but a certain choreographer may have her thinking differently by the time the wedding rolls around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stormy Seas Ahead

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LannaBanzai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LannaBanzai/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma makes quite the entrance.

“I can’t believe you,” Emma said slowly. “Really, Mary Margaret? I know you wanted a fairy tale wedding, but _this_?”

Emma’s best friend, Mary Margaret, was getting married to her Prince Charming, David Nolan, in April. It was November currently, but boy, did Mary Margaret like to be prepared. She had just dropped the bomb on Emma that at the fancy fairy tale themed reception, the wedding party was to do a choreographed dance. Then, to make things worse, she told Emma that the maid of honor had a special dance with the best man. Emma was absolutely appalled at this. She had never been especially graceful as she would’ve liked to be. And the fact that she had to have her own little spotlight dance with David’s best man, who just so happened to be her ex? No _way_.

“Now, Emma,” Mary Margaret pleaded. “It’s my wedding. And it’ll be kind of fun. Wouldn’t you just love to see Neal land on his behind after spinning one too many times?”

Emma contemplated this. She had to admit, it would be pretty hilarious. Especially if he was drunk, which he usually was. It was hard to ignore her best friend’s utterly hopeful face, and it would be even harder for her to say no. It was Mary Margaret’s wedding, after all. And after witnessing her and David’s relationship firsthand, it was safe to say it would be Mary Margaret’s only wedding.

Emma sighed heavily. “Fine,” she said, with a slightly distasteful look crossing her face.

Mary Margaret jumped up from the couch she was sitting on and hugged Emma tightly. “Oh, thank you! This will be so much fun, I promise.” She pulled back and her face lit up with a smile and a slight blush covered her cheeks.

She smiled halfheartedly back. “Whatever you say.”

\--- 

A little yellow bug pulled into a small parking lot downtown. Emma nabbed the last open spot between David’s old pickup truck and a Harley. She was the last one there, and to be honest, Mary Margaret was lucky she’d even come at all. Emma hated seeing her ex, with his easy smile and how he always found some convenient way to place himself near her. Why he did this baffled her, since he ended the relationship and all. _He just liked to be a flirt_ , Emma thought condescendingly.

She stepped out of the car and onto the cold wet pavement. The day was gray and rainy, just like her mood, Emma thought. She warily walked up to the brick building and let herself inside. There was a recently printed out sign that looked like it had gotten a little wet from the rainstorm taped on the wall. _Top floor, Mary Margaret and David’s wedding party_ , it read, scrawled in David’s barely legible handwriting. Emma cast a forlorn glance out the door, weighing her options. She could either go in and possibly be humiliated, or go back out into the rain with no excuse for Mary Margaret why she had left. A cold wind blew through the cracks of the old doors, and Emma reluctantly accepted her fate.

She had to go upstairs.

Emma got in the elevator, and it was quite awkward when everyone’s eyes swiveled to her as the elevator doors slowly opened. She smiled hesitantly as she stepped forward. She really _was_ the last one there. Crap. But Mary Margaret gave her that signature encouraging smile of hers, and Emma headed over to her.

However, the dance instructor didn’t seem to be as forgiving as the bride-to-be. He glared at her, and Emma was taken aback, but not by his sudden hostility.

He was the hottest guy she’d ever seen. He had tight fitting black jeans on (which he definitely could pull off. No argument) and wore a white button down shirt, but it wasn’t buttoned all the way up. A bit of dark chest hair peeked out, as well as a necklace or two flashed in the opening of his shirt. But he was not only fit, but his face. Oh, his face. He had jet black hair, and startling blue eyes. They contrasted greatly with the current object of Emma’s affection’s hair. And he definitely caught her staring.

“Being late is bad form, love.”

Emma felt her cheeks heat up as she looked at the man. “I’m sorry…” she said awkwardly, casting her gaze downward.

“Don’t let it happen again,” he said flatly, and without sparing her another glance, turned to Mary Margaret and David. “Shall we begin?”

She looked over at Emma with a pitiful expression and Emma shrugged like it was nothing. But it wasn’t. She could hear Neal laughing at her awkward encounter. _Oh, it is so on,_ Emma thought. This whole thing is a shipwreck, and she hastily determined she was throwing Neal overboard and the pretty little Captain over there was going down with the ship.


	2. 'Sassy Dance Instructor'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma learns the dance choreographer's name. Eventually.

The dance “rehearsal” went better than expected, but Emma still felt as if she were wasting her time. She spent the remaining hour and a half dodging Neal’s attempts to talk to her, met all of Mary Margaret’s “Are you okay’s” with unconvincing “I’m fine’s”, and pretending not to notice the intimidating glares she was receiving from the raven haired dance instructor. He obviously had not forgotten her late arrival earlier.

                And neither had she. It was hard to forget when a constant reminder was waltzing around the room.

                Something Emma did take away from the hour, however, was the basic waltz. The dance instructor taught them the simple forms, like the box, how to twirl your partner, and how to move around the ballroom without looking awkward. “I believe in good form,” he said simply. “And good form is not knocking your partner into one of your mates.” Emma could agree, mostly because she didn’t like being rammed into other people, but she definitely caught Neal knocking one of the other bridesmaids into some of his friends for a laugh. That earned some dark glares from the dance instructor. Something Emma did not take away from this lesson was the dance instructor’s name. Apparently being late did have its repercussions, for she missed the introductions at the beginning. _Dang_ , she thought _. I’ll figure it out next rehearsal._

                Emma left as soon as dark skinny jeans excused them, and opted to take the stairs rather than the elevator so she could miss Mary Margaret’s unwavering lines of questioning.

If she was only so lucky.

                Mary Margaret stepped out of the elevator right as Emma hit the lobby floor, and snatched Emma’s arm before she could make her escape. “Emma!” She looked offended.

Emma sheepishly grinned at her, like she hadn’t been about to run away.

“Emma,” Mary Margaret chastised, “You promised.”

She threw her hands up in surrender. “Am I not here? I’m totally here. That counts.”

The bride-to-be looked at her friend sternly. “But you were late.”

“I was nervous, okay? Everyone’s here, and Neal…and then I got sassed by the sassy dance instructor…”

Mary Margaret sighed and patted Emma’s arm. “It’s okay. Just please be on time next time, alright? I understand where you’re coming from,” She smiled sadly. “But you still have to show how strong you are, Emma. I know you, and I’m so proud of how strong you are. And we both know your strength isn’t going to be displayed if you skip rehearsals because you got off on the wrong foot. And we both know you’ll look absolutely stunning in a ball gown.” She had gone all out and ordered fairy tale themed dresses for the bridesmaids to accompany everything else in her themed wedding.

Emma sighed. “I guess you’re right.” Mary Margaret smiled knowingly at her, and let go of her arm.

“Drive safe, Emma. I’ll see you Thursday!” Emma gave a halfhearted wave and walked out into the brisk air to get to her bug.  She got in and locked the doors, and just sat there for a minute. _What am I getting myself into?_ She thought. _I’m really hoping I won’t regret this._

@@@

Emma hadn’t realized how much she’d been dreading Thursday until she was sitting in the parking lot outside the ballroom. She parked in between David and the motorcycle, as per usual, but was currently summoning up the strength to get out of the dang car. Luckily, Emma had gotten there early, and even though it took her ten minutes to get out of her bug, and by the looks of the nearly empty parking lot, she was still one of the first there.

She walked inside the old brick building and headed up to the top floor. She was greeted with the sight of the dance instructor. _Only_ the dance instructor _._ “Hi?” Emma asked more than said, and the man turned around and cocked a dark eyebrow at her.

“Hello,” he said cautiously. “You’re the lass that was late last time, correct?”

Emma felt her face flush. This only seemed to egg him on as a smirk appeared on his face. “And the maid of honor?”

“Yes,” Emma said briskly. “Sorry I’m early. I saw David’s truck outside and I thought…”

He waved her off. “It’s fine. The happy couple ran to go pick up some music that they forgot they wanted to add to the choreography list. Something about a best man and maid of honor dance?”

She made a face. “They’re still really gunning for that? Gross.” He laughed, and it was hard for Emma remember that she was still upset with his antics yesterday, and the fact that he humiliated her in front of her peers.

“Yes….wait, I don’t think I caught your name yesterday, since you were late and all, love.” He sent her a wicked grin that made her want to melt into a puddle, but she steeled herself against his charms (with much reluctance).

“That’s because I didn’t give it.”

He canted his head. “Oh? Well, it seems we’ve got a bloody stubborn woman here,” he chuckled. “Since you’re being difficult, I’ll just introduce myself. I’m Killian Jones.”

She smiled back warily. “Emma. Emma Swan.” He took her hand, leaned forward and kissed it antagonizing slow manner, but not before he looked up at her and winked. She withdrew her hand a lot slower than she would’ve liked, so she decided to knock…Killian’s ego down a few notches.

“Why are you being so bipolar?” Emma retreated to using her best weapon—bluntness. She was a tad prickly, and as annoying as that could be sometimes, certainly came in handy in moments like these. This weapon of hers helped her throw other off guard, but unfortunately, it backfired with Killian.

“Oh, whatever do you mean?” he queried coyly, and she was taken aback. It would be hard to answer his question without releasing the information about the fact that she may have been looking at him more than she should’ve. Maybe just a little bit. But Emma rationalized this with obvious, Killian was the dance instructor. She’s _supposed_ to be looking at him.

“I couldn’t help but notice the other day during the lesson you kept glaring at me.”

Killian looked indignant. “I did no such thing.” 

She rolled her eyes. “You totally did.”

“Au contraire, darling, I was concentrating.”

“On?” she raised her eyebrows.

“You, of course,” he said flippantly, as if he didn’t realize the gravity of his words. “It’s not every day a beautiful blonde waltzes into your class late.”

She frowned, and he hastily continued. “I wasn’t glaring at you, I promise. Perhaps I was just thinking.”

Emma took a step back from him as nonchalantly as she could have, but she could tell from the slight fall of his face he noticed. “I’m sorry,” she stuttered. “I’ve got to go to the bathroom. I’ll be back. Bye.” She quickly turned on her heel and exited the ballroom, looking for a bathroom, and immediately pulled out her cell and called Mary Margaret.

When she finally picked up, Emma made a half choking half relieved sound.

 “Emma?” Mary Margaret said worriedly. “Are you okay?”

“It’s just me and him,” she hissed.  “You two get your butts back here as fast as possible. I can’t hide out in the bathroom forever.”

Her friend sounded startled. “Oh, okay…we’re in the parking lot. We’re coming up now.”

Emma hung up the phone and leaned her head against the wall. This was going to be a long afternoon.


	3. Graceful as a Swan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma is not as graceful as she'd like to believe.

When David and Mary Margaret finally arrived, Emma breathed a huge sigh of relief. She knew it was safe to come out from her cringe worthy stereotypical hiding spot when she heard Mary Margaret’s chastising “David!” and his laughter subsequently. Emma slowly pushed the door open and rejoined the two in the ballroom. A couple more people from the wedding party trickled in, including Emma’s coworkers, Victor and Ruby. Or, former coworkers.  Victor still worked with Emma, but Ruby decided she got better money when she waitressed (she got QUITE the tips).

                Emma interjected herself into their discussion. “Hey, guys.”

Ruby hugged her tightly, and Emma made a face at Victor over her shoulder. He knew, everyone knew, how Emma felt about unnecessary affection. Ruby definitely knew, but she didn’t care. At all. When Ruby finally let go, she smiled brightly at Emma. “Where have you been? I haven’t seen you around Granny’s lately.” Granny’s was the old fashioned diner downtown that was the prime lunch location for anyone who worked downtown that she waitressed at. Ruby tapped her finger on her lips. “Come to think of it, I haven’t really seen you at all the past week. What’s wrong?”

                Emma hated how Ruby knew her so well. She tried, more than anything, to be closed off. But somehow, this girl got under her skin, and invited herself to stay. Emma didn’t mind most of the time, she liked having someone she could open up to. But it was the absolute worst when Emma actually wanted to keep things to herself. Like certain embarrassing encounters she had with the choreographer who was standing _ten feet away._

                She pulled Ruby closer, and gave a thinly veiled threat. Not veiled at all, actually, a straight up threat. “I will tell you, but you cannot tell anyone. If you do I’ll tell Victor you like him.” Emma stepped back, and smirked with satisfaction at the annoyed look on her friend’s face.

“Fine,” Ruby said haughtily. “But you have to tell me everything.”

Emma sighed. “Deal.” She looked over at the happy couple, and the bride-to-be waved her over. She glanced back at Ruby. “But later. We’ll grab coffee after this, yeah?” Ruby nodded and Emma headed towards Mary Margaret and David.

                “You rang?” Emma said with a wry smile, but Mary Margaret did not take advantage of her dry humor. “Why were you hiding in the bathroom earlier? Are you okay?”

“Killian—“ Emma began, only to be cut off by David.

“What?” he demanded.

Mary Margaret put a hand on his chest. “Now is NOT the time.” She turned back to her maid of honor. “Why did you hide from him?”

Emma held her hands out in surrender. “He was flirting then serious and I panicked, okay? And he’s rude. And humiliated me.”

“I always knew he was no good,” David muttered under his breath.

“David!” Mary Margaret said exasperatedly.

“Sorry.”

Mary Margaret gave him a pointed look, then continued. “I think you should give it a try. At least play nice, okay? He’s a good choreographer, and I wish you wouldn’t scare him away.”

“No promises,” Emma said drily. “But I guess I’ll try.” What did she have to lose, she thought. Maybe being nice won’t kill me for once.

\---

She was wrong. So very very wrong. Emma had EVERYTHING to lose. For instance, her dignity. It seemed to have flown out the window sometime in the past hour, if not long ago. Killian kept looking over at her, and Emma kept watching him to look at her, and she had ended up on the ground. Several times. Her partner, August, tried to keep her embarrassment to a minimum. “It’s okay, Emma,” he would say. “It happens to the best of us.” But after about the fourth time, she could see him holding in the laughter. _Oh well_ , she thought sourly, _at least he doesn’t hate me yet. Key word being yet._

                He wasn’t the only one holding in laughter. Emma had seen Mary Margaret elbow David once or twice. Victor made faces at her every time she fell. To make things worse, Killian’s glances turned into either exasperation at Emma falling, yet again, or smug smiles because he knew she was watching him.

It wasn’t fair.

She wasn’t normally like this. If anyone saw her during the week, she was hell on heels. Stunning blonde with the grace of a swan. Her coworkers, if they weren’t close friends, either were afraid of her or wanted to be her. Mostly both.

Emma didn’t have trouble with being smooth. But that was in her element. Out of it, well…Ruby has quite a few stories about those moments. Most of them were from when Emma was intoxicated, but still. She didn’t like it. It made her feel like everyone was watching her when she stepped the wrong way, or even worse, when she fell. But the worst thing for Emma was _he_ was watching. He made her very self-conscious, and she wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing yet.

Emma hated that the man she just met could do this to her.

But there was no way she could stop it. She’d talked to him once, and she knew there was no going back. Might as well make it… _fun_ for the both of them. Emma already had a couple ideas in mind. But before Emma could plan anything elaborate, Killian called the chaotic room to order.

“Listen up,” he said with a genuine smile. “You lot did great today. You can go, but I need the maid of honor and the best man to stay behind.”

Emma froze, and looked around the room for Ruby. Ruby furrowed her eyebrows and mouthed, _Call me after. We’ll get that drink. You’ll need it._

She rolled her eyes. Emma turned around the head towards Killian to get this stupid ordeal over with, only to find herself face to face with Neal. She took a step back.

“Personal space, ever heard of it?” she sassed, but if Neal was deterred at all, he didn’t show it.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he coaxed. “It’ll be fun.”

Emma sighed. “I guess the sooner we get this done the better.” She stepped around him and headed towards the choreographer, but turned at the last second.

“And Neal?”

His eyebrows shot up. “Hmm?”

“Don’t call me sweetheart.”


	4. I don't believe you one bit.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killian tries his hardest to get uncooperative Emma and Neal to dance well together, and Emma hatches a plan with her partner in crime.

Apparently, and luckily for Emma, as it would turn out, Killian hadn’t heard their conversation. He did, however, hold a look of barely contained amusement in his eyes.

“So I’m stuck with the two worst dancers in the room? This’ll be a bloody challenge,” he said, snickering.

“Hey!” Emma protested, and Neal just shrugged, as if to accept his fate.

“Lucky for you, Emma,” he drew out her name. “I do love a challenge.”

She huffed, crossing her arms. This earned a grin from Killian and a glare from Neal.

“So,” Killian began, “As both of you are absolutely horrid at dancing, we will be doing a waltz. Fancy enough to awe, but without all the hard footwork. But it still requires good form, and I’ll hold both of you to that.” He looked sternly at both of them, and Emma had to suppress a giggle as Neal straightened up a bit.

“Neal,” he instructed. “Start off with the simple box. Warm up.”

“Emma, love, don’t lead. That’s Neal’s job.”

“Smaller steps, Emma.” She cast a dark glance at the instructor, who seemed to be mightily enjoying himself ordering her around. She huffed. This was _not_ how Emma wanted to spend her afternoon. She looked at the nearby wall clock wistfully, counting the minutes till she could break away and grab that drink with Ruby.

“Neal, mate, you have to lead.”

At this particular criticism, Emma could enjoy herself. She leaned in close to Neal, and the surprise was evident on his face. “You never were good at leading.” She pulled back with a smirk, but was met by Neal’s tight lipped smile.

“Emma,” he said slowly, as if he was trying to drag it out, to sound sweet. He didn’t. “You never were very graceful.”

She smiled at him brightly, but answered with true intentions by a heel in his foot.

Neal stepped back and looked indignantly at her. “I’m done for today,” he announced, much louder than he needed to, and headed out the door. Emma leaned back, crossed her arms, and grinned in satisfaction. This victory, no matter how small, was a sweet one.

But it was one she’d have time to relish in later, after she had some stress relieving drinks with Ruby. She wanted something stronger than coffee. But before she could make a run for it, a hand on her shoulder stopped her.

“What was that about, love?”

Emma brushed it off. She was about to tell him what of an idiot Neal was, but then she realized…

She could make this work. All she had to do was act like Neal was her boyfriend still, and that would make him jealous. Sure, she would have to deal with Neal, but this way she could bring both of them down at once. And Killian certainly deserved a little bit of rejection after publicly humiliating her and then _trying to hit on her._

 _Yes,_ Emma thought. _This will do rather nicely._

“Lover’s quarrel,” she said simply, pulling a distraught look. “He doesn’t care for dancing.”

Killian looked taken aback. “He’s your…boyfriend?”

“Yeah,” Emma said quietly, hoping she was playing this demure part convincingly. “But we get over it. We always do.”

He looked at her skeptically. “Alright, Swan. Whatever you say.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Swan? No one’s called me by my last name since high school, Killian.”

His signature smirk returned to his face. “Well, first off _, Swan_ ,” he enunciated. “It is your last name. And I do believe you hold some sort of grace, even if it isn’t on my ballroom floor.”

She waved him off, secretly pleased at the nickname. But there was no way she would tell him that.

“See you later, _Jones,”_ she mimicked with a grin on her lips, and turned to head out the door.

“Oh, and Swan?”

Emma looked over her shoulder. “Yes?”

“I don’t believe you one bit.”

@@@

Emma made a beeline towards the back of the bar, where Ruby awaited her at their favorite table. The Jolly Roger was their favorite local haunt, and Ruby would always manage to score them free drinks, which Emma could never turn down. Emma liked the vibe of the place as well. Not busy, but the air was warm and you felt welcome, which was an atmosphere one didn’t find at many bars. Ruby not-so-patiently waited for her to approach the table, and she could hardly stifle the excited grin that threatened to spill out.

She slid into the booth and tossed her red leather jacket to the side. “I am so glad that’s over with.”

“Too bad you have to do it again,” Ruby smirked and Emma hit her.

“Hey! You’re supposed to be the sympathetic best friend?”

“Oh, whatever. You had a fine time this afternoon with leather pants over there, even if Neal was there to spoil some of the fun.”

Emma huffed. “Still. It’s going to be an all out war, Neal never makes things easy on me. And I don’t know how Mary Margaret actually expects me to pull this off in time for the wedding?”

Ruby eyed her quizzically. “The wedding isn’t until spring, Emma…” she seized the opportunity as soon as a hesitant look crossed her friend’s face. “But that’s not the problem, is it?” Ruby prodded.

She glared at Ruby. “He’s distracting and constantly critiques me-“

“He’s the dance instructor. He’s supposed to, Emma.”

“I don’t care, it’s annoying.”

Ruby looked at her knowingly. “You didn’t say anything stupid, did you?”

 “I may have insinuated that Neal and I were together…”

“…what?” Ruby gasped. “Em, you didn’t…”

“I have a plan,” she said defensively.

Ruby slid a drink over to Emma. “I’m in. What’s the plan?”

Emma grimaced, and swirled the drink around in her hand. While she hadn’t quite planned out the fine details yet, the big picture certainly was coming together. She ran her hands through her hair and sighed. “Okay, this isn’t everything, but I think I found a way to get both guys back. Obviously, it’s easy to outwit Neal and be sarcastic and witty, but this is something a bit more drastic. I don’t plan on embarrassing him at the wedding, but maybe the rehearsal dinner. When his fiancée is there. And Killian…”

“On a first name basis now, are we?” Ruby chuckled.

“Shut up. He won’t stop flirting and getting into my space so saying Neal was my boyfriend was an easy fix there. And he keeps hitting on me! He told me he didn’t believe that Neal was my boyfriend.”

“He’s not, though?”

“Of course I know that! But he’s hot, so I thought I might have a little fun this time around. He’s pretty easy on the eyes, but he still humiliated me in front of the whole wedding party the other day, which was definitely not cool. Right now it’s just making him uncomfortable and thrusting Neal out there as a barrier, but…I’ll come up with something.”

“Are you sure you don’t like him?”

“What?” Emma sputtered. “No way. He’s arrogant and flirts with every breathing thing within a 50 mile radius.”

Ruby rolls her eyes. “It just seems like a lot of work for someone who you don’t even have any connection to, really. Neal I could understand…”

“He humiliated me!”

“But he’s hot.”

Emma opened her mouth to argue but was cut off by a figure to her right setting his drink down- rather loudly- on the table.

“Ah, ladies,” said Killian Jones, the devil himself. “Talking about me, are we?”

**Author's Note:**

> props to Lana, she kept me motivated for this thing. you're the best :)


End file.
